Lilith sat on the edge of her bed, staring at her pale, slender fingers. They looked so delicate in the morning light—so completely unlike the ones she'd spent twenty years using to click mouse buttons and dig into instant noodles.
She tried to gather her thoughts.
This world… her new world… was still wrapping itself around her like a too-tight corset. In her mind, fragments of memory—hers and not hers—swirled in dizzying loops.
The Elric family. Her family now.
Six men filled the house besides her: her father, her grandfather, her uncle, two older brothers, and her little brother Luca. Not a single woman among them.
That alone would seem odd—until you understood the way this world worked.
Women were rare. One in a thousand, if even that.
Because of this imbalance, society had changed drastically. Artificial reproduction became the norm, with the kingdom overseeing labs that manufactured male offspring. They could engineer healthy boys—strong, skilled, obedient.
But females? They couldn't be created. No magic, no science could will them into being.
Girls could only be born the old-fashioned way. The natural way. And only to the rare women who existed. On average, a woman might bear two or three children in her entire life. Sometimes none.
Whenever a girl was born, the kingdom immediately stepped in. Her parentage was determined through magical tracing—every trace of paternal mana in her body analyzed down to the thread. Then she was given to the father. Always the father.
Because female children were considered divine gifts. Holy. Irreplaceable.
And with that blessing came enormous power.
Families with daughters were given stipends. Status. Protection. They became magnets for favor and influence. Neighbors fawned over them. Nobles respected them. Kings kept eyes on them.
And the girl herself? She was expected to grow up in luxury… and eventually, become a treasured offering.
Once a girl turned eighteen, she could receive tribute offers—formal, kingdom-approved proposals from men across the realm who wished to mate with her.
It wasn't called prostitution. It was more refined than that. Elegant. Ritualized.
But the truth was clear.
Women were courted not for love, but fertility.
To touch a woman without consent was a death sentence. To approach one without tribute was social suicide. To mate with one was the highest honor a man could dream of.
Some women accepted this system and lived like queens. Others pursued politics, power, or pleasure. A rare few became adventurers—warriors wrapped in silk, blades drawn beside their bodies built to birth.
And now, Lilith was one of them.
She exhaled sharply and stood, padding across her room barefoot. The house creaked with the sounds of morning: boots against wood, the clatter of dishes, her grandfather coughing downstairs. Familiar, yet distant.
She touched the pendant around her neck—the moon-shaped charm Luca had gifted her—and tried to smile. But the memories weren't hers. Not really.
The old Lilith was gone. And Shinji? He didn't know what the hell to do anymore.
"I need fresh air," she muttered.
The first name that came to mind was Julian—her second older brother. Nineteen going on twenty, with kind eyes and a lazy charm. From the memories swirling inside her, Julian had always been the one to cheer her up.
She made her way out of her room and down the wooden hallway. Their house was a spacious two-story home—proud, old, and clean. The second floor had three rooms: her own, a storage room, and the shared room where Julian and Luca slept.
She pushed open their door gently.
Luca was nowhere to be seen. Probably downstairs helping Father with the morning stew. But Julian lay sprawled on his bed, shirtless, the sheets twisted around his waist. His chest rose and fell in a calm rhythm, his bronze skin catching the morning light through the slatted window.
Lilith froze.
Not because of lust—though, damn, he was objectively hot—but because her body reacted. A shiver down her spine. A flutter in her stomach. No, her old body's reaction. This one.
She stepped inside quietly and, before she could think better of it, jumped on him.
"Wha—!" Julian jolted awake, arms flailing until he realized it was her. "L-Lilith?!"
She laughed, the sound surprising her. So light. So feminine.
Julian rubbed his eyes and sat up, smiling groggily. "The moment you return from death's doorstep, you come crashing onto me like a toddler? You haven't changed at all."
He ruffled her hair gently.
She looked up at him with mock indignation. "I have changed! I'm older now."
"Oh yeah? Prove it by not jumping on your brother first thing in the morning," he teased. Then, more sincerely, "How's your health? You gave us a real scare."
Lilith gave him a grin. "Alive and kickin'."
Then, after a pause: "Julian… I want to go outside."
Julian blinked. "What? Already?"
"I need to see the world with my own eyes," she said quietly. "Not just through borrowed memories."
He stared at her for a moment—then sighed and flopped back onto the bed. "You really are impossible."
Lilith tilted her head. "Is that a no?"
He groaned. "Lilith, you had a five-day fever. If I take you outside and you collapse again, the Royal Guard will probably execute me for negligence. I'm your brother, not your bodyguard!"
"But you are strong. And I want to walk. Just walk," she added. "No running from bandits or riding dragons, I promise."
Julian laughed softly. "Fine. You win. But only for a bit. And you're wearing your thickest cloak. No negotiations."
Lilith beamed.
And as her brother stood to stretch, his muscles rippling and his hair tousled like a romantic novel hero, Lilith's smile faltered just a little.
Because as much as she tried to stay grounded… her new body, new senses, and new emotions were beginning to wake up.
And they didn't always listen to her mind.
Continued...